


Bath Time

by withinmelove



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Caretaking, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Nice Hannibal, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 17:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7371604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinmelove/pseuds/withinmelove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a fill for the prompt from the Hannibal kinkmeme "Hannibal enjoys cleaning Will thoroughly including washing his hair, and although Will doesn't understand the codependency, he lets him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bath Time

**Author's Note:**

> My lovely friend Z added all the commas you see in here. Please give her a round of applause. http://archiveofourown.org/users/zilia

Will is trembling on the floor amongst his dogs by the time Hannibal lets himself in. 

The cops who picked Will up mid-sleep-walking route refuse to leave until he calls someone to come over. There’s no chance he’ll call Jack. Alana would only be worse with her genuine but helpless concern. So it’s under the expectant gazes of the police that Will calls Hannibal who _of course_ answers his phone at three thirty in the morning. 

Will doesn’t waste time with a greeting.

“I need you to come over. The police want to talk.”

Obediently he gives his phone to the outstretched hand of one of the officers. It’s clear they don’t trust him to tell the whole story. They are right about that.

Will keeps his eyes glued to the dogs, who mill around his knees, absentmindedly petting them. They’re restless with two strangers in the house sensing that Will is not alpha in this situation. The second officer watches him closely as if he’s going to wander off right in front of her. Of course, he won’t, but frankly he doesn’t begrudge them for their wariness. He would be too.

Will wiggles his toes, feels the sticky sting of his pinky toes, and knows they’re bleeding. Likely he’s tracked a tiny trail of blood from his porch to his livingroom chair. But right now, with his sandpaper eyelids, he couldn’t care less, and anyways the phone’s being handed back to him. 

“Will?” Hannibal’s voice is rough with sleep. It brings out his accent. 

“Yeah?” 

“I want you to lock your doors when the officers leave. Push the keys underneath it. You won’t get away before I arrive.” Will nods, remembering after a few seconds to vocalize his agreement. “Good, now say farewell to the officers.” Will looks to the closest cop, gaze resting on her chin. There’s no way he can tolerate eye contact in his current state. 

“He’s on his way.” She nods, satisfied, and the two depart. He locks the doors behind them as told. 

“They’re gone.”

“Get comfortable. I will be there in an hour.” His lungs seem to shrink to half their size at the impending hanging up.

“Hannibal.” He gasps. 

“Yes, Will?” How calm and steady. 

“Hurry.” 

A low chuckle and Will’s muscles relaxed just the smallest bit. 

“Lay down teacup, I will be there soon.” Will nods before hanging up and sliding down onto the floor into the furry warmth of his dogs. 

\---

The jingle of keys and the sound of the deadbolt sliding back register as faint relief. However, it isn’t until Hannibal’s cool, dry hand strokes his hair off his forehead that Will realizes how sweaty he’s become from anxiety. The physical touch is grounding and he soaks it up. Will blinks his eyes open to find the older man crouched over him, looming in his position. 

“The officer told me you had walked a ways, teacup, and your feet confirm that. It’s time for a bath.” Will would be lying if he said he’s paying attention to any of what Hannibal is saying. The gentle stroking of his face and hair consume his attention. It isn’t until he stops that Will reaches out for more. At once the older man is caressing him again, a smile causing the creases around his eyes to appear. Will keeps his gaze on Hannibal’s shoes, watching the subtle shifting to keep himself balanced. 

“I will be right back,” Hannibal states before he stands and moves away. Will focuses on his breathing, tracing the wood flooring beneath him. A moment later he hears the sound of knobs being turned in the bathroom. 

Hannibal grasps his hands as he helps him to his feet. Gladly, Will lets him wrap an arm around his waist to help him to the bathroom. It feels good, all this touching, in a way it hasn’t before this night. The tub is steaming and Will looks forward to the scalding heat. He may be out of it, but not so much that he’s not confused by Hannibal ordering him to raise his arms up. 

“I can get undress myself.” A smile ticks up the corners of Hannibal’s mouth as if Will’s a child refusing to go to bed. Again Hannibal strokes his face and it is startlingly intimate now that Will has recovered a bit. 

“Let me take care of you Will. You’re barely awake as it is.” Will presses his hand over Hannibal’s, heartbeat quickening; he’s too tired, too worn down by everything that has happened to say no. In truth he _wants_ to be taken care of. 

A sigh of defeat escapes before he raises his arms up.

Hannibal’s fingers sliding against his torso, chest, and arms as he removes his shirt makes Will flush and swallow. He feels short of breath, he can’t look at the older man, concentrating instead on taking careful deep breaths. 

“There is no need to be embarrassed Will.” The slide of his boxers he’s never been so aware of before, “You clearly take care of yourself.” Hannibal grasps his chin forcing Will to look at him. He makes the mistake of returning eye contact.

“Right,” Will whispers, making the older man smile, pleased. Into the water he steps, hand still held, hissing at the burning temperature. Dutifully though, Will slowly sinks down, rigid for a full minute as his more sensitive areas get scalded. Once he’s settled, Hannibal removes his own shirt, a surprise. For some reason Will had thought he’d simply roll up his sleeves. He keeps his eyes on Hannibal’s chest hair noting the sprinkling of gray in it, reminds himself this isn’t meant to be sexual but nurturing. Another surprise is that he produces one of the jumbo-sized plastic cups from Will’s own kitchen.

It’s soothing when Hannibal proceeds to wet his hair down by pouring cupfuls of water on him. Will feels more comfortable sitting down now with the water an illusionary cover for his nakedness. He can’t help it; despite his initial discomfort, he chuckles when Hannibal wipes the water from his face each time. 

“Thought about this often, Hannibal?”

It’s not until the older man’s scrubbed a bright yellow bar of soap through his curls _\- it smells like lemons -_ working his fingers to make a lather that he answers. 

“More so recently.” 

Will closes his eyes, he doesn’t know what to do with this new information, instead almost dozing as Hannibal scrubs his scalp. He keeps his eyes closed as he feels the ripple of the older man washing off his hands. A click of a cap and firm hands are back on him. Here Will has to practice his even breathing as Hannibal rubs his shoulders down his arms to his hands where he carefully cleans each finger. 

Hannibal touches him as if every inch of his skin deserves this tender, observant washing. Will dares to open his heavy eyelids to see said man watching him. But this time neither one speaks as he gestures for Will to turn around. A low groan as Hannibal’s thumbs knead the muscles of his neck. 

“Up.” By this point Will is once again too drowsy to refuse the order. He crosses his arms, chilled by the air on his wet body.

Hannibal’s broad hands slide over his back, a spark of arousal up his spine when they cup his backside. He flushes when Hannibal’s fingers slide between his cheeks, before they continue down to his thighs and the back of his knees. Again the cupfuls of water and Will is ready to sit back down in the hot water, but he turns to face Hannibal when directed. 

He can’t seem to remember how to breathe when confronted with Hannibal drinking the sight of him in. 

“You will have to let me draw you someday Will. It would be a waste not to do so,” Hannibal says as he lathers yet more soap onto his hands. Will can only bring himself to hum his assent, gaze trapped by Hannibal’s appreciative one. The touch applied to him is inquisitive. The older man squeezes his pectorals before continuing with washing him. He’s thankful that his exhaustion keeps him flaccid when Hannibal reaches his cock and balls. For his part Hannibal’s interest right now is not sexual in nature. 

Once he’s toweled off, Hannibal dresses Will in his customary worn out t-shirt and underwear. It isn’t until Hannibal’s tucked the blankets around him that Will realizes these aren’t his sheets. They don’t smell like stale sweat or covered in nearly enough dog hair. 

“You changed my sheets.” He mumbles, weighted eyelids already closing. Hannibal stroking his hair has him asleep in seconds, so Will misses the tender kiss placed on his forehead and Hannibal’s quiet sigh of contentment.

**Author's Note:**

> In case some of you Fannibals didn't know there is indeed a kinkmeme for our lovely show. Here's the link: https://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/
> 
> This is also my very late piece for the JustFuckMeUp festival that I thought I'd throw it in anyways. I didn't stretch myself when it came to the pairing I chose but the subject matter did. I'm pretty reticent with anything sexual and writing this bathing scene was a light push out of what I'm normally comfortable delving into.


End file.
